Draco woke up harshly, sensing danger. He was being restrained, obviously, since something was on top of him that was impeding some of his movement. He thrashed his arms and legs about for a second before waking more fully and realizing it was only a heavy blanket. Granger must have been feeling grateful last night, he thought. He was still expecting her to set in on him and scream at him for everything he'd ever done or said to make her life worse. He sank against the arm of the sofa and realized it was probably a lengthy list.
Hermione awoke a few hours later from a nightmare. The events with Bellatrix played over and over again, and the pain was the much more real. It was obvious she wasn't getting any more sleep tonight, so she headed toward the library, picked out a book, returned to the bedroom and began to read it. A little while later, she became thirsty so she retreated toward the kitchen, checking on Draco in the process. Quickly grabbing a glass of water, she retreated back up the stairs, only to find Draco awake this time. "Morning." She muttered from behind him.
He jumped again, and this time he wondered whether she was doing it on purpose. He turned against the back of the couch and frowned a little, nodding his head at her. "Morning." He noticed the book in her hand and smirked a little. Some things never changed.
The witch frowned when she saw him jump. "Would you like some water?" Hermione offered. She felt bad considering Draco did a whole hell of a lot for her last night and she didn't contribute too much.
He stared at her for a moment. He was always wary of kindness; it was a natural consequence of his upbringing. "I'm fine," he replied, sitting up a little straighter. "Are you feeling better?"
"Much." She said, setting her book and glass of water on the table and taking a seat on a chair in the room. "Thank you. For everything." Hermione said, watching Draco to see his reaction.
"Good. We need to talk about all of this," he started firmly, changing his tone altogether. "You can't communicate. With anyone. The risk of being found is too great, even if it means your friends know you've lived through this bloody mess. We're going to have to get food to survive, and eventually potion ingredients. I cannot stress enough, Granger, no one can know we are here."
"Understood." Hermione said, picking up her glass of water. "What I am to do without a wand? I'll be no help." The witch said before taking a large drink of water.
"You're already doing it," he said, motioning to the book she was holding. "You think those are Muggle books up on those shelves? We're going to need as much information as we can get our hands on if this is going to work." His mind was racing even as he spoke, every thought propelling him closer and closer to the memory that he made a decision to save her life at the worst possible time in his. "This isn't going to work at all," he groaned.
Hermione rolled her eyes at the comment about the books. She'd always been taunted for reading them as much as she did, but she saw that he was serious. "We'll make due." The witch said, pulling herself to her feet. "Don't always think so negatively."
He laughed humorlessly at her last comment. "Make due? You're without a wand, and we're both being searched for by every known Death Eater in the country! What could go wrong?" He flung his hands up into the air and strode off into the kitchen, suddenly eager to be away from her.
Glaring at the wizard as he walked away, Hermione picked her book up off of the table and headed toward the library. Hermione knew what he said was absolutely true, but she'd be through hell and back already and was determined to pull through. Making her way into the library, she pulled another book off of the shelf and sat in the corner so she could read undisturbed.
Eventually as he sat alone by the fire he realized he wanted to read too. His pride battled his impatience fiercely, but in the end impatience won, and he climbed the stairs to the small library on the upper floor. He didn't knock before entering, wanting to see if he made her jump in the same way that she did him.
Hermione's eyes lifted from the text on the book to the door when she heard it click open. She very briefly watched Draco before fixating her eyes back on her book. Pulling her feet up onto the chair with her, she curled into a small ball, reading as quickly as she could, looking for anything that could help the two of them.
He sat on the floor at the base of the shelves and picked through the case, growing more and more frustrated with the limited information it would offer. He supposed he should be thankful that someone even put books in there. Of course, the really useful ones lay locked away in his family's manor.
Finally finishing the book she was on, she quietly exited her chair, put the book back in it's proper space, and selected a new one. For the next few minutes, it was silent, but eventually the sound of Hermione's rumbling stomach broke it. She apologized quietly before she continued her reading.
"There's still bread in the kitchen," he muttered without looking up. He'd gone days without eating before, and one night without food would hardly be the least of his problems.
"Moldy bread." Hermione said scrunching her nose. "I'm fine. But we are eventually going to have to get food."
"I've transfigured it to normal bread, thanks," he retorted. "It's possible to transfigure it into edible things, you know. I'm surprised you don't know."
"Let me get right to that with the wand that I don't have in my possession." Hermione half snapped before closing her book. The witch promptly exited the library and headed down to the kitchen.
He chased her down the stairs, throwing his book down in the process. Finally, an argument, something familiar. "I meant that you could instruct me on how to turn food into more food!" He cried back. "I didn't exactly have time to study cooking spells while I was running away with you!"
Hermione snapped around to face the blonde wizard. "And you think I did?" Hermione asked throwing her arms in the air.
"You spent a year on the run with Potter!" He spat. "What were you doing then, staring at the walls?"
"Cooking spells weren't my number one priority at the time!" She yelled back, finally becoming enraged with him.
"You're telling me that you don't even know how to turn bloody molded bread into food? Can you do anything?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes, glaring at the wizard. Her hands balled into fists and she began to shake slightly. Grumbling, she pushed past him and stormed up the stairs, her empty stomach completely forgotten.
He let out a frustrated shout and flung himself on the couch, mad that he'd left his book upstairs. There was no chance of him going up to retrieve it. He refused to speak to her for the rest of the night, instead choosing to sleep as long as he could - the more time he spent unconscious, the better.
Hermione returned to the library, to her spot in the corner where so was comfortable before Draco interrupted her. Picking up her book, she began reading, but found herself to frustrated to do so. Balling herself up once more, she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them.
Draco lay staring at the ceiling, where he knew Hermione sat directly above him. He tried hard to think of what insane thought had possessed him and made him run away. He thought of his parents, and the pain that both of them were surely enduring now because of him. He thought of his family, and how he could never come home now that he was considered a traitor. Most of all, he thought about the hopeless situation he now found himself in, and whether it was that much more hopeless than the past years of his life put together.
Eventually, Hermione became uncomfortable. Standing to her feet, she walked over to the bookshelf and searched the titles for anything that sounded remotely like a cooking book. Once she found one, she grabbed it and headed for the bedroom. Throwing the book on her night stand, she crawled into the bed, trying to get a few more hours of sleep.